


Traces of a Life

by yowhyy



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25765615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yowhyy/pseuds/yowhyy
Summary: Calum in Tariq’s house. 10.03
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Traces of a Life

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during 10.3 when Calum visits Tariq’s house following the events of the previous episode. No direct spoilers but they’re implied.
> 
> I have a big soft spot for Tariq, and have found myself actually quite liking Calum after initially hating him, so I hope I’ve done them justice.

He makes light work of it, opening the door with a knife, leaving no trace, as per Harry’s orders. He doesn’t touch anything except the computer, all of its components already bagged and organised - how quickly the clean up team must have worked, descending on the house like flies ready to sanitise and seal and suffocate any signs of life.

They have not entirely eliminated Tariq from the house, however. Traces of a life cut short are scattered everywhere - a takeaway menu here, scraps of scribbled on paper there. He left notes incessantly, all over the Grid and apparently at his house too, little illegible paper reminders accessorised with smiley faces and stars.

Calum allows himself five minutes after he finds the computer to look at the rest of the house, still gentle, still unassuming. Just curious. He’d known the younger officer for barely a month.

In the kitchen cupboards he finds an explosion of sugar and e-numbers, packets and packets of chocolate and sweets and snacks. He suspects there would be similar in Tariq’s desk drawer at work, and he smiles. There is an open bag of marshmallows on the counter, and at least ten mugs yet to be washed. They’re Star Trek, Batman, Doctor Who themed - not unlike the ones Calum has in his own cabinets. They would have got on well, he thinks, and not for the first time that day regrets how he’d spoken to the tech officer. He knows now that Tariq’s outburst was out of character, provoked by a combination of stress and undiluted annoyance at Calum, and he wants to punch himself. 

In the corridor there are photos framed and hung on the wall - Tariq with an older lady who so much resembles him she has to be his mother, Tariq at a family wedding, Tariq beaming by a pool somewhere hot and sunny. There are more recent ones as well, with people Calum doesn’t recognise. One is in the pub around the corner from Thames House, Tariq not looking at the camera but instead grinning at a girl around his age who has short blonde hair and a beautiful, enigmatic smile, caught off guard by an unseen photographer. There is a photo from a Christmas party, and Calum chuckles at the sight of Ruth, arm around Tariq’s shoulder, wearing an elf hat and bells around her neck. There are other people in the photo - a slim blonde lady in all black, who despite a neutral expression on her face looks as though she may be secretly enjoying herself. A typical Mi-5 officer. There’s a man as well, beer in his hand, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, who Calum feels as though he recognises but he isn’t quite sure why.

As he leaves, carefully as ever, Calum feels tears rise in his eyes, the first ones he’s allowed to appear since the actual night Tariq died. This time he doesn’t wipe them away, instead allowing them to fall freely as he walks along the dark street, a head full of thoughts about a talented young man with a family and friends, a home and a penchant for sweets. He wonders how many there have been just like Tariq, wonders what happened to those people in the photos, and deep down he knows the answer.

Silently, Calum swears revenge. 


End file.
